


Legacy of the Jedi

by Rindemption



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Headcanon, Mentions of Short-Term realtionships, No Dialogue, Sadly this could easily be Jossed, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6420670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rindemption/pseuds/Rindemption
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short, no dialog story speculating the genealogy of Rey, starting back at pre-Phantom Menace era.<br/>Part headcannon, part theories, part wishful thinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legacy of the Jedi

Qui-Gon Jinn had never been a traditional Jedi. He had never blatantly disregarded the Jedi Code, but he hadn't been beyond twisting it's meaning to suit his needs and wishes. Even so, he had been effective and efficient, and as long as he didn't bring the Council shame they had been willing to turn a blind eye on most of his 'excursions'.

The Code forbade forming attachments, claiming that the fear brought from loving someone was dangerous and Dark. But it never said anything about short-term relations. Obi-Wan had been his Padawan for just over a year, and they had just completed a tiring mission. With Obi-Wan tucked away sleeping in the quarters they had been provided on whatever far-reaching planet they were assigned to, Qui-Gon treated himself. He visited the local bar, with a lovely little thing beckoning him and offering yet another drink.

 

He would never know he had a child. She would grow up with stories of the tall, rugged man, hiding behind dark flowing robes and a mask of dignified grace. She proved to be Force Sensitive, strong enough to be taken to the Jedi Temple. There she learned the art of listening to and manipulating the Force, training in the traditional Katas and forms and mastering the use of the lightsaber. She would never see her father, never even momentarily cross his path. She was in the Crèche, and he no longer had reason to visit with a Padawan to train.

She was still an initiate - not quite old enough to be picked to be someone's Padawan - when the Invasion of Naboo took place. Holovids of the aftermath were the first, but certainly not the last time she would see Obi-Wan's face. She couldn't make out the figure in the pyre.

Within the year someone took her under their wing, teaching her and honing her natural abilities. Like her father before her she was most aware of the Living Force, emotions and relationships and connections coming easy to her, and always hard to let go as her Master would try to teach her. But she grew to be a good Jedi, well equipped to handle the life of a Peace Keeper.

The Clone Wars would test her to her greatest limits. She was mostly sent on missions to far-reaching planets, just on the edge of the Republic, in an attempt to placate rebellious notions and fight off possible invasions of the small, helpless systems. She made a name for herself in those remote areas, but never enough to be heard above the songs sung about Kenobi and Skywalker. She watched them, heard of their endeavors, looking up to them from afar.

It was by some miracle, some destiny decided by the Force, that she was on one of her very rare leaves of absence when Order 66 was executed. There were no Clones nearby to harm her. But she could feel it the moment the slaughter began. There was a whisper of warning through the remnants of the training bond with her former Master before it ruthlessly snapped. She didn't give herself time to mourn. Obi-Wan's message to the remaining Jedi only solidified her resolve. She had never met him in person, but she trusted his judgment enough to heed his warning and go into hiding.

For years she traveled from planet to planet. At first, she stayed within the borders of the Old Republic, finding refuge in the homes of those she had helped during the wars. But then the Empire started seeking out remaining Jedi, and she fled to Separatist planets. On the rare occasion, she would see others like her, swapping stories and warnings before going their separate ways. Those moments, few as they were, would give her the strength to continue her silent fight.

Once, she landed on a hot, dry, sandy excuse of a livable environment. It wasn't her first choice for refuge - being controlled by the Hutts - but it was the first available transport off of her last planet of residence. Not that it mattered; she would take another shuttle away from the place in the morning. But for the time being there was a cantina playing music with a drink calling her name.

It was there that she would see a face, one she had never personally met, but that was still all too familiar. He had gray in his hair far sooner than she thought he should, the planet and life of isolation obviously wearing him down. She reached out, letting him know of her presence through the Force.

Obi-Wan didn't often let himself relax, much less indulge in pleasurable things such as drink. But there was the rare occasion where he would feel the need; a nudge from the Force, be that as it may. On one of those rare days, he felt a presence he hadn't felt in years. It would be different, somehow, but still familiar enough to catch his attention. He turned, seeing a fellow Jedi standing in the entry of the cantina. There was a familiar look about her, that of someone who used to be powerful now living a life on the run. She was a reflection of himself; but at the same time, there was a hint of something else so familiar and comforting. A set to her jaw, the angle of her nose, the twinkle in her eye not yet smothered by life in hiding. What it was would elude him for years.

He beckoned her over, and she walked to him with a certain grace, familiar but just out of reach in his memory. The mixture of both hope and sorrow upon his face silently broke her heart. They shared drinks, and they shared stories; advice and words of warning, information and familiar names of those they had briefly met on their journeys. And that night, they would share in their loneliness.

The next day Obi-Wan returned to his isolated home in the canyons, to his life of watching over the son of the Chosen One. And she boarded a transport, heading to her next place of refuge. Unbeknownst to either, a new life was already beginning to form inside her.

 

She raised the child on some far off farming planet, on the edges of the known galaxy. She taught him the subtle ways of the Force. How to meditate, to listen, how to see. With the Jedi Order dead, she abandoned the old teachings of the Code, their warnings to abandon all feelings. The Order had taught her how to control her emotions, how to understand them. But experience had taught her how to listen to them and heed them.

She taught this to her son, the grandson of Qui-Gon Jinn and son of Obi-Wan Kenobi. She taught him how to search his feelings, bring them under control and understand why he felt them. She taught him how to let flow the gentle patience of love, and embrace the power and strength of protective anger. How to listen to, and sometimes how to ignore, the instincts of fear.

He would never learn how to use a Lightsaber, hers having given out spectacularly while he was still young. And they never would be able to find all of the components needed to repair it. But she taught him what Katas and forms she could, modifying them for the weight of more traditional swords and length of staffs. He would grow to be strong, steady and sure in his use of the Force. In his teenage years, she fell in love, creating a home for herself and her new husband. She would never be able to have children again, but she simply blamed her age.

Although they were far from any heavily civilized systems, they heard of the victory against the Empire. They heard the names Vader, and Sidious, and Skywalker. The deaths of the Sith was rejoiced by his mother, her happiness shared by her son, even though he never knew the struggles she endured. It was the first time he had seen her cry tears of joy. And she finally let herself mourn for those that had been lost.

Once he was older and confident enough in himself, he left his mother, seeking to make his name known in the systems beyond. He met a smuggler, a haggard man, not old but not young. The man claimed to be well known as both a smuggler and a General of the Rebels, but to the son of a Jedi in hiding, the man was just another person. He insisted on going by the family name Organa. The boy proved his worth, both through his use of the Force and his own skills alone. It wouldn't come as much of a surprise to either of them when he became a regular member of the crew. The boy's family was never discussed, not in length, and so neither would know that the smuggler had, for a short time, known the boy's father.

The son of Obi-Wan soon learned that Han Organa was married to the Princess of Alderaan, it being her name that Han had taken. She was pregnant when they first met, very much so, but still shouting out orders and guiding the Rebels with a firm hand. Even with the fall of the Emperor, the Empire would still reign chaos through the systems around them; scattered troops making their last desperate attempts to stamp down dissent through fear, a crumbling political system scrabbling to find a new leader and reform itself into something even more, systems not knowing what to do with their newfound freedom. The smugglers did what they could, procuring supplies and jumping barricades to assist the Rebel forces.

During one of their extended stays on the Rebel base, shortly after the birth of little Ben Organa, the son of Obi-Wan met a young Fighter pilot. They would keep in touch, and after a long courtship eventually decided to spend their lives together. She had a child, a little girl, from the very start obviously strong in the Force.

 

When the older family visited, Ben Organa looked at her with curiosity. Curiosity, and a hint of something else, although the son of Kenobi was never able to tell what. With their daughter's natural abilities, the young couple agreed to send her to train with Leia's brother, another strong user of the Force, stronger even than the daughter of Jinn.

Like her grandmother before her, the child ended up in the right place at the right time, home for a visit when the son of Organa slaughtered the children of the new Jedi Order. When the news of the event reached the family, they knew they had to hide her. The idea left her mother distraught, but her father was certain keeping her in hiding would be the only way to keep her safe. It had been the only way the Jedi had remained alive so far.

Their little girl, barely old enough to start any real training on how to use the Force, barely old enough to form memories that would survive into adolescence. Through her bloodline alone she would intuitively know how to listen to the whispers of the Force, how to seek comfort and calm in times of distress and despair. But even the Force wasn't able to tell her of her future, nothing more than an incoherent cacophony of pain and confusion as young lives were so violently silenced.

They ran, finding safety in hyperspace as they took to the ways of the Jedi before them. The young family stopped only to restock and refuel, using what little time they knew they had to teach their daughter what they could, teach her how to fight and survive. It didn't last more that a few short years.

When they knew they didn't have any more time to spare, they took her away to a desolate planet, urging her to use the name of one of their close family friends. They bribed a few locals to keep an eye on her, but keep their mouths shut about who she was. She was left with few tokens to remember them by, with little more than promises of return as their farewell. She would beg them to come back. She would wait for them. She would survive. She would be known as Rey.

**Author's Note:**

> First fic!  
> Not really a traditional fanfic, but it's been stewing in the back of my mind for almost a week, I had to get it out.
> 
> A/N: After almost a year, I decided on a whim to edit this. The way I had written it before just wasn't sitting well with me anymore.
> 
> Constructive criticism more than welcome, I would love to get better at this.


End file.
